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<title>Barbed Wire Carnival by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26106586">Barbed Wire Carnival</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield'>Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dark, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, M/M, Soulless Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:28:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26106586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The absence of feeling.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/Original Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Barbed Wire Carnival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/stunudo/gifts">stunudo</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for stunudo's 2yr Tumblr blogiversary "Lie To Me In Melody" challenge. </p><p>Thank you briarr and mskathy for the nods.</p><p>My lyrics were:<br/>I feel your tongue<br/>Telling me I’m dirty<br/>And licking my bones<br/>A surge against silence<br/>A knife across a plate<br/>Makes the sound<br/>Of need on hate</p><p>From the song Grey Matter by Jewel</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  
</p><p class="p1">You move like a shark, searching frigid depths for something to slake your hunger.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Your eyes are warm and frightening. Your hands make me feel alive and captive.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">I float and sink.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">You reach to touch me and taste me, lick me clean. But I’m still dirty.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Because your voice is gravel, covering me in dust. Your fingertips are stained with millennia of blood and your lips are coated with violence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">I’m lost, no direction; but you hold me in your space, you use me so well, so thoroughly, until you can’t remember my name.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kiss me.” Your demands are harsh and intoxication as you twine your hand and wrist in my hair. “Let me make you feel.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">I feel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">I feel so much, too much. I don’t need you to do that for me, what I need is you to be what you once were – brave, selfless, charitable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now, you are made up of death and honeyed lies, hollow and dreadful, speaking words that neither of us can believe.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">I know where that mouth has been – on me a million times over a million hours, leaving behind fossils in my skin and soul.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So you stop using your word but you keep using your mouth. You smile and pull me in with hands and lips and teeth so sharp, I’m not sure I’ll heal this time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When you look at me, I want to die.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The eyes are the windows to the soul, they say, and yours are dark, without promise, nothing to hold onto. It scares me, but I stay, even though I don’t need you.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Maybe, if I keep letting you touch me, I’ll learn to hate you.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And then I can walk away.</p>
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